


Déjà Vu

by makeitmine



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makeitmine/pseuds/makeitmine
Summary: There are memories from his adolescence Blaine doesn't wish to relive. His teenage daughter makes him go through one.





	Déjà Vu

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KillerQueen80](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerQueen80/gifts).



> Written for Todaydreambelievers' Fic Exchange. My recipient this year is KillerQueen80, aka black-john-lennon on Tumblr. And let me just say every prompt Kay gave was HILARIOUS! But this is what I went with: "Blame It on the Alcohol part 2. One morning Blaine goes to wake up their daughter. She's in the bathroom, there's a boy in her bed who wakes up and says 'where am I'."

Blaine is suspicious the moment he walks into his house. Usually he arrives home from NYU to plenty of noise courtesy of his eight-year-old twins. But there is no evidence of Caden or Nolan, let alone their older sisters. 

“Cade? Nolan?” he calls out as he unwraps his scarf and peels off his coat. “Anyone home?”

It isn’t until he enters the kitchen to get a bottle of water that he hears footsteps bounding down the staircase. “Hi, Daddy!” Sabrina says cheerfully, pecking Blaine on the cheek. “How was your day?”

Blaine eyes her up and down. “It was well until a few moments ago. What are you wanting now?”

Sabrina feigns surprise-her facial expressions have always been a carbon copy of Rachel’s. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Your brothers aren’t down here fighting each other or attempting to kill the other on their Playstation. Either they actually are dead and you buried their bodies hoping Dad and I wouldn’t find out, or you convinced them to do their homework to get something out of me.”

“Why do you assume it’s me and not Stella?” she asks, taking an apple out of the fruit bowl.

“Because she’s the good child.” As Sabrina takes a bite, Blaine scrunches his nose. “Ew, wash that first.”

Sabrina huffs at his request, but she passes around Blaine to rinse the fruit. “Fine. I convinced them to do their homework before you came home.”

Blaine hops up onto the stool perched in front of the island. “And what exactly are you looking to get out of this?” he asks.

“I was hoping you could extend my curfew tonight?”

He sighs. “Sabrina…”

“Please Daddy? Lily turns sixteen tomorrow and she’s having her party tonight. Her parents are taking her out to the Hamptons in the morning so that’s the only reason why I’m not staying over. Just until 1? I promise I’ll be home then and will do whatever you want me to this weekend.”

He knows why she’s asking him. At sixteen Sabrina is every bit an Anderson, and she’s used it to her advantage from the moment she realized Blaine is her biological father. Except for Rachel’s chocolate eyes and prominent nose, she is the spitting image of him with Cooper’s (and yes, Rachel’s) lust for getting what he wants. If the question was raised to Kurt he would put his foot down and remind her that she’s to be home at 11.

Sabrina then sweetens the deal. “I’ll clean the kitchen for the next week.”

Blaine eyes her warily. “When your brothers are on spring break and prone to make every mess imaginable?”

“And I’ll babysit one night so you and Dad can go out,” she adds.

He finally relents. “Okay, but only until midnight since that’s when the city’s curfew is. And no complaining when I take advantage of the last addendum.”

“That’s fine,” Sabrina says as she pulls Blaine into a hug. “Thanks Daddy!”

It’s an easy evening with Stella and the twins. Blaine decides to order some pizza and put on a couple Disney movies. Stella rolls her eyes but watches along as Moana travels the ocean. He’s so invested in everything that he almost misses Sabrina slipping out the door to the party. “Bye Daddy!” she calls out.

“Bye Sab-wait, come back here.” When Blaine looks up he’s horrified. Sabrina is dressed in the smallest denim shorts she owns, ripped leggings underneath, and a tight black tank top that shows off too much of her belly. “Are you serious with that outfit right now?”

Sabrina rolls her eyes. “What more do you want? I have everything that needs covered up clothed. It’s not like I’m going in just a bra and panties.”

“I know, and I appreciate that. It’s just a little cold for that, isn’t it?”

“I’m walking three blocks. I’m going to have my jacket on for the entire walk. After that I’m pretty sure the Ortiz’s house won’t be set up like the Arctic.” She leans down to put on her Doc Martens that sit in the foyer. “I shouldn’t have to rely on your approval for what I choose to wear when I’m stuck in a uniform five days a week.”

“When you’re under eighteen I think you do…”

“It’s a high school party. I’m not wearing it to a Broadway show, or to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. You can’t tell me you and Dad-well, Dad alone, I guess,” she smirks, “didn’t wear whatever you wanted that may not have lived up to the elders’ expectations?”

Blaine sighs. “I feel like I should be offended.”

Sabrina reaches up to pat Blaine’s bow tie. “Daddy, you’re forty and you’ve always dressed like you’re seventy-five. But I know that Dad wore a kilt to your first prom. Was Grandpa okay with that?”

“How did…”

“Rachel has pictures of it. Something about savoring a night to remember despite the circumstances?”

Blaine finally relents. “Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. Have a good night, sweetie.”

She grins and grabs her jacket. “Love you!” she says before she exits through the front door. Blaine pads over to the window to watch her disappear down the street.

He doesn’t think about what happened again until Kurt comes home and accidentally wakes him up. “Oh, sorry,” Kurt whispers.

“S’ok,” Blaine mumbles. “How was it tonight?”

“Pretty good. Audra McDonald and her kids were in the audience tonight.”

“I hate you.”

Kurt kisses him on the forehead. “Hey, you’re the one who gave up theater to be home with Sabrina.”

“Please don’t remind me when you’re meeting Broadway royalty,” Blaine says. He then notices it’s after 12:30. “Shit.”

“What?” Kurt asks.

“Did you notice if Sabrina was home? I gave her an extra hour on her curfew.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Lily’s sweet sixteen party.” Blaine shifts onto his other side to face Kurt, who is undressing.

“And you weren’t waiting at the door for her?”

“I came to bed after I put the boys down. It was long day at work.”

Kurt pulls a t-shirt and flannel pants out of the dresser. “You poor thing. But to put you out of your misery, she is home. I saw her door was closed.”

Blaine sighs in relief and collapses against the pillow. “Good.”

“I do wish, however, that you had asked me before you agreed. I’m still the kids’ father even if I’m not here as much as you.”

“Sorry,” Blaine says. “It was a last minute thing and I figured at that point you were on your way to the theater.”

“It’s okay.” Kurt climbs into bed and snakes his left arm across Blaine’s midsection. “I probably would have agreed with you if it’s a one-time extension.”

“It was. And I reduced it from her original suggestion of coming home at 1.”

“Father of the year,” Kurt jokes. “Any plans for the morning?”

Blaine snuggles into the warm body of his husband, closing his eyes. “Waffles and bacon?”

“Sounds good,” Kurt says. He sweetly kisses Blaine. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Blaine replies before he drifts off.

* * *

There are few rules in the Anderson-Hummel household. Blaine never wanted the kids to grow up feeling like they had to be “on” every single moment the way he was at home. They have their chores, they have to do their homework, but other than that everything is lax and free.

Except for Saturday morning breakfast.

That’s the time for the family to be together. A good home-cooked breakfast before Kurt heads off to the theater, before soccer games and ballet recitals, and before Blaine loses himself in grading papers or checking his classes’ online discussions gives him a sense of gratitude. Since the Friday night dinners Kurt grew up with wouldn’t work with Broadway, it was a tradition they started the weekend after they brought Sabrina home from the hospital. Even if Kurt has to travel for fashion shows he almost always makes sure he can get a Friday night flight so he can be there.

Blaine finishes setting the butter, syrup, and sugar on the table before glancing into the family room. Caden and Nolan are watching the latest popular cartoon he can’t seem to understand and Stella is playing a game on her iPad. There’s no sign of Sabrina anywhere. “Did you wake Sabrina up?” he asks Kurt.

“I texted her twenty minutes ago,” Kurt replies as he flips the waffle maker over.

“Should I make sure she’s alive?”

“Good idea.”

Blaine shuffles through the kitchen and family room to the stairs, taking them slower than he did when they first moved into the house as age begins to catch up. Even if he’s only just into his forties, Blaine feels it in his knees after chasing four children for the past seventeen years. He’s halfway grateful he didn’t return to the stage after Sabrina was born or he’d probably feel worse.

When he reaches her closed door he gives a swift rap on it. “Sweetheart? Breakfast is almost ready. Dad made waffles.” She doesn’t answer, so he knocks again. “Sabrina, wake up,” he says louder.

Blaine hears nothing. He gives in and turns the door handle, peeking in. The lump under the blankets isn’t stirring. While Sabrina is a typical teenager who prefers to sleep in as much as possible, it isn’t usually this difficult to get her up for Saturday morning breakfast. As long as she makes it downstairs she’s allowed to sleep in on Sundays. He pads over to her bed and shakes her shoulder. “Honey, it’s time to get up,” he pleads.

A low groan meets his ears as the lump stirs. It confuses Blaine. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Hands reach up to the top of the purple comforter to pull it down and Blaine is met with a shock of short, electric blue hair. Green eyes meet his and widen. “Oh my god, where am I?” the owner of said hair and eyes asks in a voice that matches the groan from before.

Blaine’s jaw drops as he realizes-it’s a boy. A boy who, as he cringes while sitting up, is obviously hungover. And this scenario is all too familiar to Blaine as he’s hit with memories. Memories of being this boy, of feeling the after effects of the Rachel Berry House Party Trainwreck Extravaganza, of being woken up by a startled Burt who was expecting Kurt to be in bed.

He backs up and hits something in the doorway, knocking him to the floor. “Daddy, are you okay?” Sabrina asks as she helps Blaine up.

He just looks at her, already showered and dressed. Through clenched teeth he replies, “Breakfast is ready. Your friend can stay to eat, but then he has to leave.” Blaine then walks out, leaving Sabrina’s questions behind.

Blaine is shaking as he makes his way downstairs and back to the kitchen. “Kurtthere’saboy,” he hisses.

Kurt stares at him. “Excuse me?”

He takes a couple breaths to soothe his nerves. “Sabrina has a boy. In her room.”

The spatula falls from Kurt’s hand, clanging on the linoleum. “Excuse me?” Kurt shrieks.

“I know!” Blaine says, bewildered. “And get this-he’s hungover.”

Kurt snickers. “What?” Blaine asks.

“Don’t you think this sounds a _little_ familiar?”

“You don’t think that was my first thought?”

“Hopefully there isn’t a sexual identity crisis involved…” Blaine shoves his husband in response. “Hey, kidding!” Kurt jokes.

They’re interrupted by the clearing of a throat. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Anderson-Hummel,” the boy says, looking marginally better than when Blaine found him. “Sabrina was going to wake me up an hour ago to go home but I didn’t sleep well.”

“It’s fine,” Blaine replies, not wanting to give the boy any feeling of compassion. “We’ve all been there at some point. But I don’t think I remember Sabrina talking about you at all?”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Jack Wyatt.” Jack holds out his hand.

Blaine takes it. “Nice to meet you, Jack. We’re having waffles and bacon if you want to have a seat at the table.”

“Sorry, I can’t have waffles unless they’re gluten free.”

“Will scrambled eggs work?”

Jack nods. “That’s fine.”

As soon as he leaves to sit at the dining room table Kurt glares at Blaine. “He’s staying for breakfast?”

“Did you want me to throw him out right away?” Blaine asks.

“I guess not. I mean, Dad didn’t throw you out when he found you.”

“See? What Would Burt Hummel Do works very well in this situation. Besides, I want to torture Sabrina a little before we ground her.”

Kurt smirks. “What do you mean ‘we’? I have to leave in an hour.”

“I have to do this by myself?” Blaine whines.

“What Would Burt Hummel Do?”

He grabs two plates. “I hate you.”

* * *

It turns out Jack is an extremely good kid. He makes an effort to engage all of the kids in conversation (Nolan especially loves his hair and Kurt has to tell him he can’t dye his until he’s in his thirties), he wants to study computer engineering in college, and he’s in a band that does covers of early millennium music, which makes Blaine feel old. Kurt offers to drive him home on his way into the city but Jack refuses, citing that he doesn’t want to take advantage of everything they offer when they weren’t expecting him.

After Blaine convinces Stella to take the twins to the park for a couple hours, Sabrina attempts to hide in her room. “Not so fast,” Blaine stops her.

“Come on, Daddy,” she whines.

“Nope, I said we were going to talk.” He leads her into the living room where she flops onto the couch, crossing her arms across her chest. He sits next on the other end, turned facing her. “Sabrina,” he starts, “in what world did you think it was okay to do what you did?”

She shrugs. “I was being nice. He-”

“I don’t care if you were being nice. You’re too young to have a guy in your room.”

“Seriously? That’s the route you’re taking? You and Dad started dating when you were my age.”

“But we didn’t spend the night.”

“Bullshit,” she spits out.

“Sabrina Ariane!” Blaine barks.

Sabrina curls up tighter. “Sorry.”

“The point I’m making is that Jack shouldn’t have spent the night, especially when we’d never met him before. You’re too young for anything that would necessitate him even seeing your room…”

“Okay, see, I know you’re lying now because Dad told me when we had the sex talk that you two did it when _you_ were a junior-not that I ever wanted to know about your sex life. Besides, we’re just friends. I don’t think he sees me like that.”

“You don’t?”

“His girlfriend dumped him last night,” Sabrina says, staring intently at her chipping nail polish. “And he got a little too into the vodka after that. I wasn’t about to let him drive home, so I brought him here. I figured if the same thing happened to you you’d go out of your way for a friend, right?”

Blaine reluctantly nods. “Can I tell you a story? Without any judgment?”

“Sure.”

“When Jack popped his head out of the covers I actually was hit with a sense of déjà  
vu, because I’ve been in the same position before.”

“You mean you brought a guy friend home when he was drunk?”

“Your dad brought a very drunk me home and Grandpa Hummel found me in bed.”

Sabrina’s jaw drops open before she starts laughing. “You have got to be kidding me,” she says through fits. “At least you didn’t get drunk because of a girl though.”

It’s Blaine’s turn to hesitate. “Actually…”

“What?” she screeches.

“Long story short he invited me to my first New Directions party, I had a little too much to drink, and I ended up in a spin the bottle game where I made out with one of his closest female friends.”

“Daddy!”

“I know,” Blaine sighs. “My great questioning phase happened after I came out. I’m an awful gay. And it pissed your dad off so much.”

“How’d you get over it?”

“I kissed her again-sober. And felt nothing.”

Sabrina take Blaine’s hand in hers. “Well I’m glad you straightened yourself out, pun intended.” She squeezes it and drops it to get off the couch. “I’m going to Kylie’s, okay?”

“What? No, not okay.” Blaine runs to the door to block it. “We haven’t discussed your punishment yet.”

“Daddy…”

“You’re grounded for the weekend. I should do longer but it’s spring break. Just promise me no more alcohol and no more boys in your room.”

“Daddy, I didn’t drink last night,” Sabrina protests.

“But you were at a party where it was served,” Blaine says. “And Jack was proof of that.”

Sabrina rolls her eyes. “Fine. No alcohol.”

“And no boys in your room.”

“Even if Jack and I have an English project after the break?”

Blaine nods. “I can’t control what happens up there.”

“Daddy, we’re just friends. We kissed a few times last year and that was it. No feelings.”

The way Sabrina fidgets as she says it makes Blaine know that isn’t the end of her feelings for Jack, and that he’ll likely be in the picture for a while. “Still, any work you do will be down here. Promise?”

She nods. “Promise.”

Blaine kisses her forehead. “Okay. Now go text Kylie before I take your phone.”

She takes her phone out of her pocket to fire the text off, then hands it over.

* * *

Blaine isn’t surprised to find Jack sprawled across the carpet when he comes home from work a few weeks later. As soon as spring break ended Sabrina made plans for their project and reiterated them to her dads. “Hey,” Blaine says as he takes her blazer off.

“Hi Daddy,” Sabrina replies, her eyes focused on the English book in her lap.

After checking on the other three and greeting Kurt he finally settles in his office with the door open. Before long there’s a knock on the door. “Excuse me, Mr. Anderson-Hummel?”

Blaine turns around in his chair. “You can call me Blaine, Jack. I know our last names are a bit of a mouthful together.”

Jack grins sheepishly. “My mom would probably disown me if I did that,” he says. 

“Country club kid, huh?”

“Upper East Side. Let’s just say when I visit my grandparents I have to wear a wig,” Jack replies, pointing to his now aqua-hued locks. “But I wanted to thank you for your hospitality that morning. I can imagine it was a little awkward finding someone you’ve never met in your kid’s bed, especially after a night of drinking.”

Stifling a laugh, Blaine smiles. “It’s quite an experience.”

“You’re an incredible dad. If mine had found Abby-my ex, that’s her name-or even Sabrina they wouldn’t even have time to grab anything they brought before he threw them out. He thinks because I’m the youngest I need to be more sheltered than my siblings.”

Blaine is floored for a moment. That’s essentially how his own father treated him compared to Cooper, up until he came out. “Thank you, Jack,” he says. “I hate to hear about that though, because from what little I know about you you’re a great kid.”

“I also want to tell you that-well, I like Sabrina.”

Jack stares at Blaine in hopes of a reaction. “Okay?”

“And I would like your permission to take her to the movies on Friday night.”

Blaine inhales deeply. “Didn’t you just get out of a relationship?” he asks.

“We dated for two months,” Jack says. “It wasn’t serious. And I’ve always had a bit of a crush on Sabrina. Or something. It just came full-force after I got home.”

Blaine feels like he’s staring at his own doppelganger in Jack. Granted, it took him slightly longer after the drunken Rachel shenanigans to figure out his feelings for Kurt. “Her curfew is eleven,” he says. “And she’s been talking about going to that reboot of The Breakfast Club.”

“Awesome,” Jack smiles. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome. I trust you with her, you know.”

“I won’t break your trust,” Jack says before he returns to the living room.

Blaine’s barely signed into NYU’s course site when Kurt comes in and leans on the desk. “So when should we start worrying about wedding invitations?”

He groans and drops his head on the desk. “Can we at least get through their inevitable first breakup?”

“As long as it’s only one and they don’t elope.” Kurt rubs his thumb across the back of Blaine’s neck. “I may not have planned our wedding, but I’ll be damned if I’m not allowed creative control over our little girl’s.”

“That may be enough for them to elope,” Blaine jokes.

Kurt huffs. “Fine. God, when did she grow up?”

“Some time in the past seventeen years.” He lifts his head up and stares at his husband. “And it’s only going to get worse with the other three.”

“We’ll make it,” Kurt says. “Just like we make it through everything. Just do me a favor?”

“Hmm?” Blaine hums.

“Don’t tell Jack about your proposal. That cannot be topped.”


End file.
